The Story of A Boy Named Cloud
by Past
Summary: Tifa's been holding on to a secret for far too long, and she hopes to find peace when the truth is revealed, but will she lose Cloud forever as a result? CloTi
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We do not own Cloud; Tifa; Vincent; Sephiroth etc. They are the property of Square Enix! The crazy idea, however, belongs to my friend and I, and we're both writing this story. We switch off chapters, and this is hers (raingds); Enjoy!

I.

"Aeris? Aeris, can I talk to you?" Tifa felt her eyes grow watery again and looked up at the ceiling to prevent tears from leaking out. The other woman turned around in surprise, a forkful of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. Upon seeing her friend's distress, Aeris set down her fork and ushered Tifa into the lounging room of the inn. The others looked up from their meals, pausing all conversation, but Aeris gave them a small nod and they all carried on warily. The teary-eyed woman practically fell into the comfortable arm chair and held her face in her hands; tears sliding down her face and onto her skirt. "I can't hold it in anymore. I really can't. I need to tell you because you won't tell him." To Aeris, Tifa seemed to be talking in riddles, not making much sense.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" she knelt down and put a hand on the other woman's shoulder. Apart from quietly snuffing each other over Cloud, Aeris and Tifa had never really gotten past exchanging names and polite glances. Now, to be confronted with an over emotional Tifa, Aeris knew that this was something serious, something she didn't want anyone else to find out.

"Aeris, please, you can't tell Cloud. You just can't, it would ruin him. But I just can't be the only one who knows any more...and you might know what to do." Tifa said between sobs.

There was a moment where everything became blurred, Tifa and Aeris had a short conversation and then there was a scream from the next room. Everything became clear again as Aeris and Tifa raced back into the dining room to see Cloud, lying as a bloody pulp on the floor. Tifa screamed, but no sound came out, the floor opened up and she fell into the darkness.

--

Tifa jolted forward, sweat covering her entire body. The tank top and shorts she'd worn to bed were also fairly soaked. She got out of bed, welcoming the cool air that came in through the solitary bedroom window. That dream again, this time clearer and more frightening. Her legs gave out on her and she fell to her hands and knees, shivering and sobbing. Aeris was the only person she had been able to tell, and know that the woman was dead, Tifa was stuck with the truth years later. She could feel the truth in her mind, like a monster trying to claw its way out. "I'm going to go crazy." she said to herself out loud, a bitter smile crossing her face. For now, she needed to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.

--

Seventh Heaven bar opened early because a lot of the night shift construction workers stopped by for a few drinks, which meant Tifa also had to wake up early. Shifting out of bed and cradling an oncoming migraine, she stumbled into the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth mechanically. Slipping on a navy 'MIDGAR, KEEP ON ROCKIN'' t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Tifa made her way down the stairs while pulling her hair back into a loose bun. With a flip of a switch, the overhead fans came on and the intercom radio crooned a classic acoustic song. Dry swallowing a few advil, Tifa began moving the dry dishes back on to the shelves. There was a knock on the door, which meant the mail had arrived. A few letters slid through the small slot on the door, but then there was another knock. "Package for Miss Lockheart." a familiar rough voice called out.

"Coming!" she called, unlocking the door and taking a thick envelope from the mailman at the door. "Thanks Glenn." she said with a smile, turning around to pick up the rest of the mail on the floor. The mailman tipped his hat and took off down the street while Tifa shut the door, examining the package in her hand. Usually a package had something to do with the bar, about business and the like. But this one had no return address, just bold words written in black marker across the front reading "I found this in some old ShinRa archive. Thought you might want it back." The handwriting was unrecognizable, adding to the mystery. The package felt like a thick stack of paper, and when she tore open the envelope, she found she had guessed right. Inside was a thick stack of faded paper, yellowish around the edges with a few stains on the cover. Immediately Tifa dropped it, seeing the familiar title and handwriting. She had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep her screams from coming out. Backing away, Tifa fell into one of the bar chairs, fighting to keep herself steady. So this was the reason for the dreams, everything was coming together again.

On the floor at her feet lay a manuscript, written in a child's handwriting. At the top, written in large bold letter that had been traced over many times was the title 'THE STORY OF A BOY NAMED CLOUD'.

--

Cloud parked his motorcycle outside Seventh Heaven, removed his goggles and leather jacket and walked toward the door. He hadn't been back to Midgar for a few weeks since he'd been delivering all across the country nonstop. It was tiring work, but it payed well and he needed the money. Apparently, saving the planet didn't help you any with your retirement fund.

It was late in the afternoon, though hard to tell in the constant Midgar smog. Cloud spares a disgruntled look at the depressing gray sky hovering above him like a rude person peeking over his shoulder. He hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, which was no surprise really. The memories of Sephiroth's recent return and destruction replayed over and over in his head. Defeating Sephiroth again had been like a nightmare of deja vu. _I wont be just a memory_. The general's words rang clear in his head, sometimes over and over again, especially while he slept. There was something he had missed. A message he was supposed to grasp, but had completely looked over. To Cloud, it felt like he had unturned all of the rocks except for the gigantic glittering boulder in plain sight, and now it was too late. A part of him was lost forever.

Upon reaching the entrance to the bar, he quietly opened the door and was surprised to see Tifa looking rather distressed, sitting in one of the bar chairs and staring straight at him with terrible fear in her eyes. "Tifa, are you alright?" he asked immediately, walking toward her. She tried to speak, but seemed unable, quickly jumping up from her seat and kicked a stack of papers under the table. If she had been trying to prevent him from seeing it, though, it was too late. He saw his name written across the top in bold letters, and for some reason it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What was that?" he asked, trying to move past her. Tifa held her hands up, tears glistening in her eyes.

"It's nothing, I just didn't clean up last night, that's all." _Please believe me, please believe me._ Tifa chanted in her head, eyes pinned on Cloud's, trying desperately to pour her thoughts into his. He didn't believe her, though. That much was obvious as he tried to move past her.

"My name was on that..." he said, looking at her questioningly. Cloud finally pushed past her, for she found that there really was no way she could keep this from him. If she somehow destroyed the papers, the truth would haunt her forever and she didn't want that. Tifa couldn't protect Cloud anymore, the dreams had told her that.

Cloud bent over, stared at the paper with his clear blue eyes. They looked tired, she thought, tired and sad. It was evident these years had taken a permanent toll on the man, and what he was about to discover would not help him any. With trembling hands, she bent down next to him and watched his face closely. At first, there was no change, but as he read further down the manuscript his eyebrows knit together and his mouth dropped. "What is this?" he asked quietly, rubbing a thumb over the stained edges. Tifa wanted to hug him, wrap her arms around his shoulders and tell him it was nothing, just a practical joke.

"Um...it came in the mail today." she said, trying to speak through her tears. Tifa made one last attempt to take the manuscript away, lightly tugging it in his grasp, but he did not let go. She fell back onto her butt, pulling her legs to her chest. "I wrote it when I was ten" she sighed, "I wrote a few other stories, but this is the longest one."

"It's all about me, though." Cloud said, squinting at the pages. "Except I have brown hair." He looked over at her, eyes full of questions. Tifa found she couldn't hold his gaze, couldn't dare look him in the eye. "Did you write this about me?" She wanted to say yes so bad, but that would make no sense because some of the events in the story she wasn't supposed to know about until she helped Cloud sort his memories out in the life stream.

"No...I wrote it long before I met you."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We do not own Cloud; Tifa; Vincent; Sephiroth etc. They are the property of Square Enix! The crazy idea, however, belongs to my friend and I, and we're both writing this story. We switch off chapters, and this is mine (Past); there is some obvious OOCness with Vincent, but that's the point because of his emotional journey etc!

II.

Two dreadful hours had passed since Cloud stormed out of the room in a daze. Tifa sat on the floor, clutching the torn up pieces of paper close to her chest…wishing she had never picked up a pen in her life. Yet, if she hadn't, maybe there would be no Cloud…and she wondered if she could really live with that. A life without Cloud…a character in a story, come to life…isn't that every writer's fantasy? Their favorite character becoming an intimate part of their life? However…if she had known how a soul would nest inside him, how it would grow—how it would feel all the emotions she could feel—how it could feel heartbreak just as well…would she still have written it?

She just couldn't force his expression out of her minds eye. Those wide, blue eyes, quick tears curving down his face as he froze. How the color drained everywhere, except from those eyes…it was as if in that moment he had died. Or perhaps…returned to the way he started out. An empty being…created out of a wish, or a desire. Or was he truly a creation of Hojo's? That Tifa was never quite sure of. She certainly had no alone time to speak with Hojo, so she was left only with her interpretations.

Tifa heard the bell ring as someone entered. _"Oh God."_ She thought_, "I can't see anyone right now…"_ She wiped her face frantically and stood up deliberately, hoping she didn't look too conspicuous. She saw Vincent, and by his reaction she could tell he noticed her bloodshot eyes and obvious surprise. Tifa hadn't seen Vincent since they worked together the year before. What was he doing here now?

"Vincent…um…sorry, I'm just cleaning up a mess…do you want something to drink?" she grabbed the papers and in a thoughtless move threw them away. There was a twinge in her heart as she heard the papers shuffle to the bottom, and she felt an urge to grab them again. It was ridiculous…since those papers had just taken Cloud out of her life forever.

Vincent looked at the trash can but decided to ignore it. "No, I'm fine, but thank you." He sat down on the counter and stared at her point blank, sending a shiver down her spine. "Would you believe it…if I said…" His cheeks appeared faintly blushed, but Tifa shrugged it off, because this was Vincent she was dealing with.

"What? Did you miss us?" she immediately regretted her sarcasm when he looked away. "Wait…did you?..."

Vincent? Miss them? How strange…Tifa pinched herself—maybe this was all one strange, terrible nightmare. "You know…everyone has this perception of me. I get it I guess…I didn't talk much, and when I did all I ever said was foreboding information. Like two years ago…when I came back and helped fight against Sephiroth and those girly spin-offs of his. But…it seems to me…that nobody caught it. I mean…there was a big fight going on, sure. But don't you think…if I'm really so…cold…and such a loner…wouldn't you think that I wouldn't care? Why would I bother coming back? I don't think anyone really thought about it. I don't think I really did either."

Tifa forced her jaw shut. After the whole deal with Cloud, this had never come into her mind as the next big thing to happen. Hell, she had never even thought of Vincent confessing his…not love but…friendship? He took a moment to look at her, and shrugged and looked away.

"I know…I'm being so sentimental. And talking so much. See why I don't need a drink? God…can you imagine me drunk? It's been years…all the way back to those days with the Turks. You know…that person isn't dead. And I realized that after that battle a year ago. When you all showed up to help me…I was surprised at how glad I was. Before that time in my life…I really thought about Lucretia a lot. I thought…that her choosing Hojo was the worst thing that could ever happen. And it was pretty bad…I still don't get it. Anyway…the thing is…I realized I actually kind of...well, you know. Here you are, keeping in contact, and the only contact I've had is with Yuffie…and not much.

"Yuffie is so…alive. I think she's the reason I've gotten 'soft'. I really enjoyed her companionship. I felt so old and dead, but like I had something to fight for. It's because of her that I feel more now…I'm not buried anymore."

_"This is…so out of left field…"_ Tifa couldn't help but think.

"I bet this is the dumbest thing you've ever heard. Especially since it's coming from me. I think…I need to stop before I really go over the edge. I'm here…because I want to…oh God. I'm just going to stop. So…where's Cloud? I'll uh…go pick a fight or something…man-up again. Oh yeah, and Tifa…don't tell anyone about this talk. It would ruin my reputation…hah."

Cloud? No…Tifa didn't know where Cloud was. He was probably far away…trying to forget all about her. "Oh…I don't know. And uh…I won't tell anyone…I think…shock is causing me to be…a little mute…you know…?"

Vincent laughed, and she found that he had a great laugh. She also thought about Cloud…and wondered if he would ever laugh again. A bit of comfortable silence passed and part of her wanted to confess to him. But if she did that…would she ever be able to stop? Would she just continue telling everyone…pushing Cloud ever away…and no longer from her but from everyone? Still…Vincent noticed her inner battle, and probably wouldn't leave.

"Hey…you ok? You seem a little…down. Did I cause that? Did I freak you out too much?" he was genuinely concerned. For the first time, she really saw a human inside him. He seemed just like Cloud to her…but his origins were actually human…and she felt she needed that. She needed a human.

"I…," she walked over to the garbage and picked up the manuscript, which was partly in shreds. "I would tell you…but it's probably easier if you just read it first. Then I'll answer any questions…"

He stared at it for a bit and noticed the title. "You wrote a story about Cloud?"

She stared at her hands, "In a way…"

"Listen…why don't you just tell me…"

Tears flooded down her face and she collapsed on the floor. Shocked, Vincent ran over to her and knelt down and rested his hand on her arched back. "He's…he's not real. He never really was. I made him up! I made Cloud up!"

"You…what? How is that possible? I think maybe you're…"

She glared at him and shoved the manuscript onto his chest, "I did this. I lied to him. I told him that I had those memories, but I don't! I never did! Oh GOD! Can you see what I've done to him? He saw this! He read this! I had to tell him the truth! If you could have seen him…you…oh god…why couldn't I just bury it? Why? Why does the truth always come out?!"

Tifa collapsed into Vincent, and he awkwardly put his arms around her. Sure, he had been feeling a lot more alive lately, but he wasn't entirely sure of how to comfort someone. Her sobs began to wet his shirt, and he began to realize that at the very least she thought it was true. "How…can you be sure? Maybe your memory is just a little messed up…maybe Sephiroth…" he stopped—he couldn't come up with anything.

"What?" her large brown eyes stared up at him, begging for an excuse, a way out—begging for mercy. But there was nothing…Vincent could not come up with a single, remotely plausible, theory…although he desperately felt the need to. "Please…please tell me…" she closed her eyes and leaned on him again. _"Please tell me I'm crazy."_ She begged in her mind.

"I'm sorry. I…how can I convince you? I don't know anything…if you don't have those memories than maybe you're right…but does that really change anything? So he's a figment of your imagination…he's here now, he's real. You didn't write all the stuff that's happened, right? All the things he's said and done? You only wrote to a certain point. Don't you see?" she looked up at him, hope pouring out of her being. He noticed a group of hair crossing her face, and instinctively brushed it away. "You only created the beginning of Cloud. From where you ended, he began. Who he is now is his own creation. He's a real person now. Right?"

Tifa smiled sweetly, and Vincent noticed for the first time how beautiful she could be. He seemed to be noticing a lot of new things lately…how sweet and fun Yuffie could be, albeit annoying at times, and how beautiful Tifa could be. Of course, he had always admired Aeris…but he never really knew why.

She hugged him tightly around the waist like a little child. "Thank you…" she whispered, "thank you so much…"

Tifa pulled back and leaned on the wall beside him. She felt a strong pull in her heart, which told her that everything wasn't quite alright, but still, they sat like that for a long time, finding strange, momentary comfort in a new place.


End file.
